| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Anabasis by Xenophon: pupil of Socrates. He marched with the Spartans,
and was exiled from Athens. Sparta gave him land
and property in Scillus, where he lived for many
years before having to move once more, to settle
in Corinth. He died in 354 B.C.
The Anabasis is his story of the march to Persia
to aid Cyrus, who enlisted Greek help to try and
take the throne from Artaxerxes, and the ensuing
return of the Greeks, in which Xenophon played a
leading role. This occurred between 401 B.C. and
March 399 B.C.
Anabasis |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Time Machine by H. G. Wells: the Amateur Cadger? I don't follow.' I met the eye of the
Psychologist, and read my own interpretation in his face. I
thought of the Time Traveller limping painfully upstairs. I
don't think any one else had noticed his lameness.
The first to recover completely from this surprise was the
Medical Man, who rang the bell--the Time Traveller hated to
have servants waiting at dinner--for a hot plate. At that the
Editor turned to his knife and fork with a grunt, and the Silent
Man followed suit. The dinner was resumed. Conversation was
exclamatory for a little while, with gaps of wonderment; and then
the Editor got fervent in his curiosity. `Does our friend eke
The Time Machine |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Madame Firmiani by Honore de Balzac: spite of his sagacity the old Planter was unable to decide whether she
turned pale from shame or pleasure. There are pleasures, delicious
emotions the chaste heart seeks to veil, which cannot escape the shock
of startled modesty. The more delicacy a woman has, the more she seeks
to hide the joys that are in her soul. Many women, incomprehensible in
their tender caprices, long to hear a name pronounced which at other
times they desire to bury in their hearts. Monsieur de Bourbonne did
not interpret Madame Firmiani's agitation exactly in this way: pray
forgive him, all provincials are distrustful.
"Well, monsieur?" said Madame Firmiani, giving him one of those clear,
lucid glances in which we men can never see anything because they
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